31Oct10

Last week my roommate made oatmeal cranberry cookies for her sister’s birthday and made me four without cranberries because she knows I am very fond of dessert but not very fond of cranberries. This is how I know I can trust her with my life.

A girl in my class cooks and doesn’t bake, I told her I bake but can’t cook, I need the exact ingredients and cooking is too vague. She said she likes that, that way she can do what she wants, because she can’t follow directions and likes to make things her way. Written down it sounds like she was insulting me, but in real life, I didn’t feel insulted. I actually felt like she felt silly that she couldn’t follow directions, and then I was a little jealous, that she can somehow manage to insult someone but make it sound like she’s not. I am terrible with insulting people without meaning to, but I really don’t mean it, honest. The girl’s name is a commonly used spice for cooking, mine is somewhat but not really related to God. My baking skills add up.

I like Halloween.

I like November where you can wear shorts or skirts or whatever you want. I like pie. And I am totally okay with pie that is presented like this:

Someday I’d like to know how to make impressive things like (good) pie and caramel owls and work in a bakery where they’ll pay me something slight for making something pretty. And they’ll write about me in the papers and say how I published a novel at 23 and didn’t even go to pastry school and can make flowers grow just by asking nicely and that sometimes I exaggerate so much that you can’t even figure out if she’s telling the truth or making up a story.

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